


Long Overdue

by Bentclaw



Category: World of Warcraft
Genre: M/M, wranduinweek2017
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-22
Updated: 2017-10-22
Packaged: 2019-01-21 11:55:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,175
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12457254
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bentclaw/pseuds/Bentclaw
Summary: WRANDUIN WEEK DAY 1 LET'S ROLL. Prompt: Meeting again. A very late apology from Wrathion mends some, but not all, of Anduin's hurt feelings.





	Long Overdue

**Author's Note:**

> HOLY OOC ALERT BATMAN. I'm way out of practice, I've forgotten how to write these stupid kids. This is pretty shit but I hope some of you will like it anyway.

A week after he’d offered to lend his aid to the war effort, and Anduin had yet to say a single word to him, or even look him in the eye.

Wrathion wasn’t surprised by the rejection, but that didn’t stop it from hurting. He had added many capable fighters to the Alliance’s forces, brought information that his best spies had discovered about the Legion’s movements, and even swallowed his pride far enough to apologize, several times. If he did anything else, he risked overstaying his tenuous welcome and being run out again. The other Alliance leaders already made no secret of the fact that they would prefer to see him dead and buried than allow him to continue aiding them. Anduin had spared him, put his considerable resources to use, and then turned a cold shoulder.

The worst part was that Wrathion couldn’t even complain about it, because anyone he might approach about the matter would remind him that it was his fault, and he deserved it. And they would be right. He had come back from Draenor with nothing to show for it but a few scars. His plan to stop the Legion had failed, and now they had come anyway. What a waste. He couldn’t even do anything else, stuck in Stormwind he was all but useless. There were no walls keeping him in, but if he ever wanted Anduin to speak to him again he would not consider the option of leaving the city. Being a lone operator had done him no favors, it was time to grow up and admit that even his considerable powers were limited.

Two weeks into the silent treatment, Anduin cornered him in a hallway. “I just want to know,” he said without any kind of preamble, “what in the world you could _possibly_ have been thinking.”

Wrathion’s reply died halfway up his throat, the anger and hurt in Anduin’s eyes silencing him more effectively than a magic spell. He could say he’d had good intentions, insist that he hadn’t _wanted_ to cause any hurt, but the hurt would still be there.No matter how he tried to justify it, the fact remained that if the Alliance hadn’t had to fight off an invasion from Draenor, they would have had more soldiers at their disposal to defend against the Legion. If Wrathion hadn’t played his own part in starting that mess, Anduin’s father might still be alive.

Grief weighed heavily on Anduin. Some days he bore very little resemblance to the boy he had been, years ago when they’d met in Pandaria. He had withdrawn into himself, preferring now to spend his time alone. There were dark circles under his eyes, and he never smiled anymore. It was his smile Wrathion missed most of all, directed at him in the dim lantern light of the Tavern in the Mists. He had kept the memory of it close on his most difficult days, and its absence felt unnatural. Unfortunately, he couldn’t think of a single thing he could do to make Anduin happy again, save perhaps for going away forever. As he was far too stubborn to consider that, he was left wracking his brains for anything suitable to say.

Before he could draw the words up from where they’d retreated to, Anduin let out a disappointed scoff and walked away again. Wrathion watched him go, something deep in his gut twisting itself horribly. Every interaction they had might be his last chance, and he had certainly wasted that one. If Anduin got fed up with his presence he would be banished, and very possibly have the price on his head reinstated. Living life that way, constantly on the run from anyone who might recognize him, was not for him. By the time he’d gotten desperate enough to show himself again he was half-mad from the need to do something productive.

Having forgotten what he’d even left his room for, Wrathion turned around and tried not to let his dejection show as he walked slowly back the way he came. It probably wasn’t important. All of the important work at this stage was taking place on Argus, and he had been deemed too volatile to know even the vaguest details about the activity on the front lines. It seemed that more troops were returning alive than dead, and that was the only thing keeping his temper even. His agents were barely even under his control anymore, kept in the dark as he was. The Army of the Light had all but absorbed them, telling him only where he needed to send them next.

Even Left and Right got to go to the front lines, taking it in shifts where one would go to organize the Blacktalons and the other would stay and defend Wrathion. Not that he needed it, he thought, growling under his breath. Despite the murderous hatred leveled at him from all sides, he was safer in Stormwind Keep as he would be anywhere else on Azeroth.

He was so preoccupied with his own thoughts that he didn’t realize someone had spoken to him until he was halfway to the next corner. When he turned in surprise, he discovered Prophet Velen staring after him with one eyebrow raised.

Patient as he was, Velen did not look angry at the slight, so Wrathion didn’t bother to apologize. “What did you say?” he asked.

“He has not been himself,” Velen answered, nodding in the direction Anduin had gone. “Be patient with him. He is glad to see you, however he might act.”

“What does it look like I’m doing?” Wrathion gestured vaguely around him. “If he’s glad to see me, he could give me some idea of what he wants me to do. I know he blames me for all this, but I don’t see how to make up for it.”

Velen shook his head. “He was angry at you for stirring up the orcs of Draenor, yes, but he does not blame you for our current war with the Legion.” He tilted his head slightly as if he found Wrathion slightly odd. “The anger comes from a deeper place. You worried him greatly with your disappearance, and he fears you might do it again.”

The unspoken implication that Velen also believed Wrathion would abandon the Alliance at any moment hung heavy in the air. In days past Wrathion would have treated it as a deadly insult, but he had learned how to pick his battles a little better since then. Exchanging harsh words with the universally beloved Prophet of the Draenei would earn him no favors.

“Thank you for your advice,” he said instead, despite the fact that Velen had given him no hints whatsoever about how he ought to proceed. Patience, for him, was far easier said than done. Staying silent and allowing Anduin’s anger to run its course might take weeks, or even longer. Wrathion wanted to be on friendly terms again before Anduin died of old age.

* * *

 

 “I was going to save everyone,” Wrathion said loudly the next time he saw Anduin. If he was going to be robbed of his chance to address a question, he would respond by robbing Anduin of his chance to run away from the answer.

Anduin paused mid-stride, looking over his shoulder at Wrathion with one eyebrow raised disbelievingly. He turned halfway around and opened his mouth to say something, but Wrathion cut him off before he could start.

“I was going to stop the Legion from ever reaching Azeroth.” Wrathion willed Anduin to believe him. “None of this would have happened. But I made a mistake. I didn’t want this.” He had promised himself he would not beg for Anduin’s attention and he still had pride, but he brought his toes up to the line after a long moment had passed without a response. “Talk to me, Anduin.”

There was a pause, during which Anduin adjusted his hold on the books he was carrying under his arm. It looked like he was torn between putting them aside or hitting Wrathion with them. In the end, he did neither. “Very well,” he said. “Let’s talk. But not here.” He turned on his heel and walked away without checking to see if Wrathion was following.

Stormwind Keep’s library was an odd choice for a personal discussion, so Wrathion came to the conclusion that Anduin hadn’t actually had a destination in mind, he just wanted to put down his books and move their conversation to somewhere with relative solitude. There were still librarians hovering and voices could only go slightly above a whisper, but that might be to his advantage. Anduin couldn’t shout at him if even normal tones were loud enough to be against the rules. He leaned against a bookshelf and it struck Wrathion once again how tired he looked.

“I begged you to let me help you back then,” he said eventually, deflating as he spoke. His shoulders slumped, and for a moment it looked like he might buckle under the weight of the ornate mantle he wore. “Why did you leave? I thought you wanted to stay together, face our enemies that way. Why wouldn’t you trust me enough to stay?”

There was the root of it. Anduin had needed a friend, Wrathion hadn’t been there, and he was still asking whether it was something he had done wrong. For the rest of his life, Wrathion was going to use Anduin Wrynn as the moral yardstick against which he would measure all other humans. “It wasn’t because of anything you did,” he answered. “It was at least partially _for_ you, to tell the truth.” Even alluding to it out loud made him want to cringe, but he owed Anduin the honesty. “I was younger then, with bigger dreams that I let get in the way of the details.” For all that he bemoaned the Red Crane’s vision of hope, he had in the end been blinded by it.

Anduin sighed then, and lifted one hand to rub his eyes. “I know how that feels,” he admitted. “And I want to believe you, but I don’t know how I can.”

“I’ve never lied to you,” Wrathion offered, knowing he was pushing a line. Technically it was true, but he couldn’t think of anyone who would see it that way.

“You’ve never told me the entire truth, either.” Anduin was watching him carefully now. He wanted to hear what Wrathion had to say, and that alone was more than he’d had going for him for weeks.

Keeping things close was second nature to Wrathion, so it was only after a brief internal struggle that he nodded. “Very well then. The full truth. The truth is that I believed Garrosh Hellscream had the potential to save Azeroth. He saw his home world desecrated by the Burning Legion, I assumed that he would hold enough hatred for them to wish for their destruction over revenge on the people of Azeroth.” Getting the words out started to become difficult due to the overwhelming shame of it all. How stupid he’d been, and the worst was still upcoming. “I was going to help the orcs of Draenor defend themselves against the Burning Legion, and then I was going to encourage them to strike back at the very source of the threat. With the full might of a world behind me, I was going to wipe the Legion out.”

“And you really thought that would work?” It should have sounded condescending, but Anduin only sounded sympathetic. Wrathion couldn’t decide whether that felt better or worse.

“I knew it was a long shot,” he said, attempting a smile and managing a grimace. “But it was the only thing I could think of, so I told myself that I had to make it work, no matter what happened. That after it was done and the Legion vanquished, I could return to Azeroth as a hero. I would be forgiven for my betrayal. And then, Anduin Wrynn, I was going to ask to marry you.” He looked away involuntarily, his courage failing him. “That’s the full truth.”

His feelings for Anduin had not been a secret back then. He had freely shared them, made them into a game, and laughed when Anduin became flustered at the attention. It was the depth of them that he had always kept inside. Anduin had been set to inherit a kingdom, Wrathion was planning to leave Azeroth, there hadn’t been space to ask him for anything more.

“I wouldn’t have said yes,” Anduin said softly. “I couldn’t, I still can’t trust you not to leave again.” His eyebrows took on a pleading slant, and Wrathion started to realize what was being asked of him. “I need to love someone who will stay with me,” Anduin finished. “I can’t handle losing anyone else.”

“I promise to still be here tomorrow,” Wrathion answered. “Can you believe at least that?”

Anduin smiled, and it felt like a step in the right direction.

 

 


End file.
